One Plus One Doesn't Always Equal Two
by DedicatedRusher
Summary: There were a lot of things Logan Mitchell understood: hockey, the laws of physics, the human anatomy...The list could go on for days. How he managed to meet, fall in love with, and lose the greatest girl he's ever met in his life? He didn't have the slightest idea. If what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, then Logan will be the Incredible Hulk by the end of this. Logan/OC


_**This story line has been in my head for months and I continue to draw inspiration for it, so I just decided to write it because...why not? :P**_

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_**Prologue**_

I am not a party girl. The earsplitting music, the gyrating bodies, the drunken smiles—not my thing. My ideal Saturday night would be at home, buried underneath some blankets on the sofa and watching some cheesy rom-com with my best friends Ben and Jerry. Predictable, low-key… _normal_. But unfortunately for me, my sister Avery feels that I should "enjoy the perks of my appearance" aka 16 year old me sneaking into an over 18 club. So maybe I don't look my age but that doesn't mean I want to abuse it! But almost always, my older sister's wishes trump mine. And unlike me, Avery lives on this stuff. At least the United States Avery does. The old Avery, with glasses and acne and her face shoved in a book, is still in London where it will most likely remain for the rest of her life.

Tonight Avery's wish to seek out a good time took us from Two Harbors to a four-story brick warehouse that had recently been turned into the latest hot spot in downtown Duluth. Throbbing with club music, swimming with fake IDs, and bodies jam-packed together producing enough sweat to take greenhouse gases to a whole new level…yeah this was definitely not how I wanted to spend my Saturday night.

The wait outside the club wasn't terrible but it was long enough to make me regret my choice in heels. Small talk was made around me, mainly by cheated on girlfriends ranting about how they were going to get drunk, hook up with a hot dude inside and forget about their jackass exes. As we approached the front of the line, I fetched my own fake ID from my clutch and flashed it at the bouncer. He only stopped me briefly to wrap a bracelet around my left wrist, signaling that I wasn't allowed to buy any alcohol. My eardrums were screaming at my brain to get out of there once they encountered the first hint of overused, earsplitting dubstep. But my feet had other ideas as they crossed the threshold and into the club only lit by neon and strobe lights.

The layout inside was standard: a dance floor sandwiched between a stage and a bar. There weren't as many people there as I expected but the noise coming from the three floors above me proved that there were plenty already there. The sound of the bass from the current song drowned out whatever Avery yelled in my ear before I watched the brown waves of her hair disappear as she made her way to the dance floor. With the huff of a breath, I made my way to the bar, planting myself on the farthest stool. The bartender didn't even give me a second glance after seeing the neon green bracelet wrapped around my wrist notifying him that I was underage.

I spent the next 45 minutes attempting to pass the time by checking my Facebook and Twitter, liking random pictures on Instagram, and playing apps. Gotta love iPhones. It was only when the seat next to me gained an occupant that I really became aware of my surroundings once again.

"You're playing DD tonight?" When I realized that the question had been directed at me by the guy sitting next to me, I quickly played it off like I hadn't heard him and turned, giving him my full attention.

Only I wish I hadn't. The only thing I saw when I looked at this guy's face was brown. From the ski slope-shaped hair, to his chocolate eyes, and even his slightly unmanaged eyebrows, everything was brown. Looking at his face I could tell that he was underage as well. And by underage I mean younger than 18. He was probably the same age as me, if not a couple years older.

"I-I'm sorry, what?" I mentally cursed myself for my stammer. I was hoping the loud bass drowned it out, but the crooked smile that was now grazing his face proved otherwise.

"Well, since you're moping over here by yourself and you're underage," he trailed off, pointing to my bracelet-clad wrist. "I'm going to assume you got stuck being the designated driver," he said, lifting the water bottle that I didn't notice him holding before to his lips and taking a sip before replacing the cap and giving me another smile, revealing the dimples that I had somehow managed to miss the first time.

"Is it that obvious?" I ask giving a nervous smile. The rate my heart was pounding against my ribcage only increased when the mystery dude brought his stool closer to mine. There was less than a foot separating us now. The air around me was filled with the subtle hint of the cologne he was wearing. I knew he could tell what he was doing to me, so the fact that he smiled again at my reaction made me a little pissed to be honest. But the anger didn't last very long when he spoke again, obviously starting to turn on the charm.

"Out of all the places you could have visited in the States, you come to Minnesota?" he asks with a slight chuckle, bringing me back to reality.

"I'm sorry?"

"Even in here you can't miss that classic English accent, so it's obvious that you aren't from the States. So out of all of the amazing cities in this country, why visit Duluth, Minnesota?" Man, this boy's voice will be the death of me. I'm not an expert at accents myself but I could have sworn I heard some Texan in there.

"I live here actually," I say, smoothing out the skirt on my dress and then checking the time on my phone, anything to avoid his stare and keep my heart from jumping out of my chest and landing on the bar. "I've lived with my sister in Two Harbors for nearly ten years."

"Two Harbors, huh? That would explain why I've never seen you around here."

Shit. Nice move Ashlynn, you just told this random dude you met in a club where you live. Granted Two Harbors is nearly a 40 minute drive from Duluth, but that's beside the point. Stalkers will go out of their way to track people down.

"Uh..yeah. Have you heard of it?"

"Of course, my teammates and I go up there for hockey games a few times during the season. We're actually playing against them again in a couple days. Plus I have a couple of mutual friends up there."

"So you're a hockey player, huh?"

"I am. Been playing for as long as I can remember. Why? Is that a bad thing?" The confident grin he's held on his face since he sat down falters slightly, obviously afraid that I was going to start bashing on his beloved sport.

"No, no, no. I just- for someone that has such an amazing smile, hockey wouldn't have been the first sport that came to mind," I say. When the crooked grin returns to his face, I look down at my lap attempting to hide the blush that has made its way onto my cheeks.

"So what about you? Do you play?"

"Hockey? Oh no! I can barely ice skate! I'm fine being in the bleachers with everyone else. Karate is more my thing." The look on his face was mixed with shock and confusion. "Why? Is that a bad thing?" I ask with a smirk, repeating his earlier words.

"Definitely not," he states. "But for someone that has such an amazing smile, karate wouldn't have been the first sport that came to mind," he states with a sly grin repeating my words. I look down, unable to meet his eyes as my smile grows as well as the blush on my cheeks.

When I look up again, confident that the pink has faded, I see the beautiful stranger lock eyes with the bartender, silently signaling him over. "Hey man, it's been a while," the bartender acknowledged. "What can I get for you?"

"Nothing for me Steve but how about a water for this pretty lady?" he requested, tilting his head to the right a little and smiling in my direction.

"Coming right up." With that, "Steve" reached under the counter and produced a bottle of water that was wet from sitting in a tub of ice. The bottle was placed down in front of me but I had lost all interest in it, my attention now turned to the boy beside me, whose dimples refused to be put back into his cheeks.

"Steve?" I questioned, "What teenager is on a first name basis with the bartender of a club? And exactly how often are you here? Because it seems to me that your friend sees you here _a lot_." I knew my voice was rising with each question but I couldn't help it. How could I have been so stupid to fall for the same ploy that I can guarantee has been used on plenty of girls before me? Why are all men such pigs?

I could physically feel the lines forming in my forehead as my eyes narrowed and my jaw locked. But what really pissed me off was the fact that this dude kept smiling at me!

"You're really cute when you get all mad," he smirks, unscrewing the lid from his water bottle and taking a swig before replacing it. Cute? Who gave him the right to call me cute after I just caught him in his little game? "Also, before the gears in your head overheat from planning the 47 different ways you want to kill me, you should know that I'm the owner's son."

"The…owner's…-what?"

"My mom is a real estate agent. She bought this place for a bargain and turned it into a place to gain a little extra revenue. She asks me to stop by every now and then to check on the place and make sure that everything is running smoothly since the club scene isn't really her thing."

I feel my face turn bright red as I turn and look straight in front of me, unable to look at his face. I watch a water droplet slide down the side of my still unopened water and disperse in a ring as it meets the countertop.

"And this is the part where I start stuttering and apologizing uncontrollably as I try to make you forget that the last five minutes just happened," I state shyly as I pause from chipping the polish off my nails to turn my head and look at him.

"I don't have the slightest idea as to what you're referring to," he states as he feigns confusion. It soon fails as a grin appears along with the return of the craters of his dimples. "I'm Logan," the brunet smiles, reaching his hand out for mine to shake.

"Ashlynn," I say as my hand wraps around his. "With two N's." Two N's? Smooth one Ashlynn. It's only then that I realize my palm is sweating…awesome. I quickly take my hand back and finally unscrew the cap and take a sip of the water that is in front of me, courtesy of the newly-named boy beside me.

"Well Ashlynn with two N's," he states as he stands up from the stool, "would you care to dance with me?"

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_***Hides in corner* So? Please let me know what you think! And there will be an introduction of a very important character within the next couple chapters! (I haven't decided which one to put it in yet :P)**_


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